The Arcadian Assassins
by Commander.Spikee
Summary: This is the background story to how the guild Arcadian Assassins came together. It began as a little project for my guildies that never quite got finished. I had no intention of doing anything more with it but decided to post it here in case anyone would enjoy reading it. I also realize that my writing has slightly improved since writing this story.
1. Chapter 1

_(All Character names are based o__n characters within the Guild. This was the first story I wrote, I haven't worked on it in years._

_I decided to post it onto FanFiction just in case anyone would like it.)_

_T __he_

Arcadian

Assassins

_Dedicated _

_To the members of _

_The Arcadian Assassins _

_Of Stormrage_

Part One

_ In a distant land a portal was created that would link Azoroth and another world together. The Burning Legion after ten thousand years sought to unleash their newly corrupted Orcish Horde in an attempt to use the pawns to weaken Azoroth's defenses without alerting the world's dragon protectors._

Arcadian Offensive

A winded human stops to catch his breath on a ledge overlooking a small mountain town known as Arcadia. His brown, slightly graying hair flowed past his face. The wind howls at his back, threatening to push his aching body over the edge.

The town's buildings were little more than holes dug into the mountain side. The town people of Arcadia were going about their day harvesting their crops and working on other professions. Looking down upon them, the elder man spots the person he was sent to find. A warrior named Anubys, once a great general within the Alliance army before he retired and returned home to his family. The Troll wars seemed like a distant memory to the exhausted elder man. Taking a deep breath, he sprinted down the remaining stretch into the small town.

"Anub-" he begins to say, cut off by the uneven path under his unsure feet, falling face first into the mud. Gasping for air, the old man can hardly lift himself, his arms shaking violently as he tries.

"Who said that?" Anubys says with a hint of sarcasm, "I warned you the next person that called me a noob, would be forced to burn our shit for a month, just like in the war." Turning around, Anubys sees the elder man attempting to lift himself out of the mud. Instantly recalling the man, a soldier within the Alliance, "What brings you to our lovely hole in the mountain old friend?" Looking closer Anubys sees blood, splattered all over the man's armor; Anubys' soft playful expression tightens, "What happened?" Anubys raises his voice filled with worry.

A young female paladin rushes over to the exhausted warrior with two others. "Quick put pressure on the wound." The two applied pressure while the young paladin held the elder man's head in her arms. Softly under her breath the paladin chants an ancient language and places her palm upon the man's forehead. A warm feeling flowed forth throughout the man's body from under her palm. Taking a deep breath filling his lungs with fresh mountain air, his hands stop shaking, and he clears his throat, preparing to speak.

"We came to ask you for help, a great evil has awoken in the world. Green monsters have come out of nowhere, attacking Stonewatch Keep. We were followed, I ran ahead while the others bought time for me." Taking a brief moment to catch his breath before continuing, "Please send help to the keep, it may already be too late."

"This is bitter news, you did not waste your time coming to me" Anubys said, turning to everyone gathered around them, "It's time for the Alliance's spec ops team to come out of retirement, hurry."

"Yes sir!" replied the closest man dressed in farmers clothing, saluting his commander, before running off to gather his gear, and the rest of the soldiers.

"Rest now old friend, the keep will receive reinforcements soon." Suddenly he turns to the path leading into the mountains, hearing the sounds of combat approaching.

Anubys runs to his house, grabs his shield from atop his fireplace and pulls his sword out of its sheath. The elder man still lying in the mud, strains his neck looking back to the path leading into the mountains. "Oh thank the gods, they're alive," he says.

A group of soldiers came from the path running into town. A middle aged warrior in full plate armor hurries to them carrying a small Gnome, whose armor is covered in blood. "He's bleeding badly, and their coming right behind us. A few footmen sacrificed themselves buying us little time," explains the warrior, closing the gap to them. "The lad saved my life," cried Woofyboy, a short Dwarf with a single tear dropping from his eye. "Please tell me, we aren't too late, that ye can save him."

A priest comes along side them and inspects the Gnome's wounds. "I'll do everything I can for him." The priest takes the Gnome into his arms, followed closely by the young Paladin. "He is the town's best priest; your boy is in good hands." Anubys says looking over to his men returning from their homes, from gathering their gear.

A hunter pats his animal companion on the head. "Commander, I never thought I'd say this; we're ready to follow you into combat once again. You've gotten us through tuff spots before and you'll do it again.

Anubys laughs while handing the battle hardened few that just entered town some canteens of water. "Thank you Frosty, It's always been an honor leading you all. Shields at the ready, we get to see these 'green monsters' any second now, form up!"

Arrows cut through the air from the mountain, towards the town. Panicking, the town's citizens scattered, fleeing to their homes. The soldiers grouped up into a shield phalanx formation. Each soldier standing shoulder to shoulder, holding their shields so that they overlapped, men behind them placed their shields above the others. Creating a wall of shields no arrow could penetrate. Those scattered from the main group fell to the ground, bodies littered with arrows.

"Frosty get ready to counter-attack!" called out Anubys

"Yes sir, ready when you are" gripping his bow tight, aiming it into the mountain awaiting the shield wall to break formation giving him a brief window of opportunity for his arrow to seek revenge for those falling around him.

"Everyone ready and BREAK!" Anubys yelled; the shield phalanx broke off, instantly Frosty fired his bow while Anubys and a few others ran towards the path. The rest of the soldiers returned into the phalanx after Frosty fired another shot, joined by Woofyboy, who fired his rifle, before the phalanx was in formation around them. Another wave of arrows fell upon them milliseconds later.

The distraction gave Anubys enough time to reach cover at the beginning of the mountain pass, getting a clear look at their attackers. Green humanoid monsters with bulging muscles and small tusks erecting from their mouths, roared from a messy, unorganized offensive strike. "Ha the brutes look confused, like they've never faced a real military force before, zigzag formation push, form up let them strike and then we counter!" Anubys gave the order and they sprinted forward, stopping just before the Orcs.

Two footmen closed in around Anubys linking their shields up shoulder to shoulder, two came in behind placing their shields over the others; bracing for the monster's attack with their miniature phalanx.

Falling for Anubys' trap the Orcs lunged forward striking with all their might into the human's shields. The strikes would have knocked over a lone footman; however with five shields linked together the force of the blow was split between them. The footmen around Anubys scattered around the Orcs heading for their archers. The Confused Orcs didn't know what to do, giving Anubys an opening to stab into an Orc's chest. The two footmen standing in the back lunged forward, taking out more orcs. Pushing forward Anubys looked his Orc in the eyes before kicking the now lifeless body to the ground.

The shield phalanx below served as the perfect distraction, the Orc archers never saw Anubys and the others approaching their flank. The first footman to reach the archers kicked one slightly above its lower back, launching the Orc over the cliff to the phalanx below. One archer reacted quickly aiming his bow at an advancing footman, firing his arrow into the soldier's shields outer rim almost hitting his target. The footman swung his shield onto his back, griping his sword with both hands; ready to strike the Orc. Inches from contact, suddenly an arrow strikes the Orc from behind, the arrow slicing between the Orc's eyes.

Looking down to Frosty, "hey that was my kill!" the footman called out. Frosty looked as if he was going to say something back, instead his face filled with horror, aiming his bow at the footman. The footman turns just in time to see a two handed axe coming down, cleaving him in two… mere seconds before Frosty's arrow pierced the Orc's chest.

"Regroup on me!" Anubys ordered to the men below, with the archers taken care of, it was safe for them to advance. Anubys and the remaining footmen continued to fight the Orcs while their reinforcements rushed to Anubys' side. More Orcs flowed from the tree line, threatening to overwhelm them. Orcs charged forward, eyes blazing red filled with demonic bloodlust, hungry for their next kill. Quickly overcoming two of the footmen, tossing their bodies to the side, foaming at the mouth the Orcs charged for Anubys.

An Orc swung at him, Anubys quickly blocked the blow. The Orc's next swing came in the same form. Anubys braced for impact but at the last second the Orc twisted his axe to catch Anubys' shield from below, thrusting up the Orc pulled Anubys' shield out of his grip. Anubys was thrown into the air, attempting to hold onto his shield but failing. Falling to the ground, tossed around like a rag doll. Anubys stumbles to his knees. The world spinning around him, Anubys rubs his eyes looking up at the Orc's expression filled with hatred through blurred vision. The Orc's muscles flex as he stops his Axe from rising, Anubys' shield flew down toward town. The Orc brings his weapon down full speed to cleave Anubys' head in two.

Two shields fill Anubys' vision as two footmen slide around him, blocking the killing blow mere seconds before it struck Anubys. Two arrows and a bullet slice through the Orc's body, its lifeless falling to the ground. Once the rest of them formed up around Anubys another phalanx is formed. The remaining Orcs were dealt with within moments.

Anubys knelt onto one knee, trying to catch his breath. "What the hell are those things; I've never seen anything like them. They're clever, adapting their attacks; I used to think the Trolls were worthy adversaries." Getting back up, Frosty hands him his shield that was brought back by a villager below, "Shall we go save the day?"

"There's my Commander we all know and love," Frosty laughs, walking off to take the lead. Frosty's wolf howls before taking off after him. Anubys briefly wondered where the little bugger was during the last battle.

Sorlon, the town's mage runs up the path out of breath, "sorry, I came as soon as I heard." He placed wards on the soldiers before they left for Stonewatch Keep. They marched through the mountain pass at a jogging pace in columns of two, Anubys at the front. Jogging because they wanted to get there quickly with enough energy remaining to fight, or else it would all be for nothing.

Anubys always enjoyed the peaceful mountain pass, trees filled with wildlife, birds signing, breeze blowing. It was always a symbol of hope to him, never before in his long life had it be a march to war. No birds sung today, most likely scared off by the green monster's attack, he assumed. Briefly looking behind him at the men he had once hoped would live the rest of their lives without any battles or wars; knowing now it was unlikely with new wars beginning every day, it seemed.

They travel for hours, during the blistering heat of the mid days sun. Frosty appeared up ahead, "there is a small clearing up ahead, you should rest there quickly," slightly over half way through the mountain pass. Before coming to a much needed stop at the small clearing; Anubys sat down on a log placed near the areas bone fire. One of many clearings created along the path for travelers going between Arcadia and Lakeshire. Woofyboy sat near Anubys while footmen gathered wood and dry shrubbery to burn.

"We can't pause long, just catching our breaths. It's a long journey when you're trying to rush it, a lot longer than I remembered," spoke Anubys to the short Dwarf. Sorlon made his way over; casting fire upon the placed sticks and shrubbery, bring warmth to their tired bodies.

"Aye it is, seemed longer with those monsters on our tails, we almost didn't make it." Woofyboy replies while looking into the unnatural flames before him. "We were ordered to come to you once we got word of these monsters attacking our capital; Stormwind. But we didn't get far before their army reached Stonewatch. Our wall will hold them back for a while but that didn't stop them from sending a group after us."

Looking at Woofyboy with both concern and interest, "so these monsters came in great numbers, to attack our capital and send out war parties around the nation… Interesting and here I thought they were mindless beings filled with bloodlust. They did show a slight hint of a brain though," Anubys said.

"Aye, I hadn't thought of that, their army must be huge. Ye mentioned the Troll wars earlier; I've heard rumors of an elite squad within the Alliance before. Were ye part of it? I don't remember ye in the main army, but ye definitely think of the greater picture, not just the battle happening around ye like myself and other soldiers."

"Yes I was, I commanded the team at the time," Anubys' eyes fill with sorrow as he remembers the many good men he had lost behind enemy lines; not being able to tell their families how their loved ones really died for their nation.

A long moment passes before Sorlon chimes in to take the pressure off of his friend, "We all were, and after the war was over we came up here to make a quite living away from civilization. After so many years out there, one forgets how to live a normal life in the city." Anubys comes back to reality, rubbing his eyes; clearing them of any sign of tears. "The battles were deadly, but I couldn't imagine what it would have been like on the front lines, where you were stationed Woofy." Sorlon said while fidgeting with his canteen.

"Aye, It was different I'm sure, but no matter where ye stand in battle ye see horrors. Horrors we never seem to stop dreaming about. Would have been nice to come up into the mountains and forget about the world's troubles; like ye guys did with yer families. To live in relative peace with the earth," replied Woofyboy.

"That's true, but the world's troubles still found us," Anubys adds. "How quickly we rush back into the things we tried so hard to forget. Alas, better to join the fight than sit back and watch the world burn. Speaking of which, we should really get ready to move onward. The Keep won't stand much longer without aid." Standing from their seated positions, Anubys stretched before attaching his weapon to his belt and shield upon his back. Glad for the brief break but eager to get back on the path, hopping their small breather didn't mean the death of those within the keep's walls.

Echoes could be heard from the battle off in the distance. "Did that sound like siege weapons to anyone else? Do you have siege weapons at the keep?" Anubys asked Woofyboy, not remembering any placed there on his last visit.

"No we don't have anything close, is there an overhanging along this path we can look out from laddy?" Woofyboy replied

"Yes about two miles ahead, we'll run to it," looking over to everyone else. "The rest of you get on your feet and meet us there in fifteen minutes, no more breaks, we've wasted too much time already!" Anubys gave the order back to his men already fading from view of the three sprinting forward. Leaping over downed trunks and giant rocks, ducking under low branches they were eager to reach the overhanging to see the source of the repeating echoes rising from the keep below.

Nine minutes later, completely out of breath the three of them were greeted by the sight of the outer wall of Stonewatch keep collapsing from the onslaught of catapult launches. Once a symbol of hope to the citizens living in the area, it is now crushed by the savage Orcs. A green mass of Orcs charged through the created opening in the wall, butchering everyone in sight. Many of the keep's inhabitants fled towards Lakeshire. A massive Orc pushes through the rest, easily twice the size of the others.

"That one must be in charge, the rest seem to cower around him," Anubys guessed. Looking back along the path they sprinted down, "we don't have time to wait for the others, we have to keep moving. They'll understand and something tells me Frosty had the same idea about us, I haven't seen him since he told us of the best clearing to rest at."

"Aye, look, there be Gingerdread, the general stationed at Stonewatch. He's with what must be the last remaining soldiers forming a line while the others flee." Woofyboy says, "He's a brave lad, they don't stand a chance against that giant one, not to mention the rest of them!"

"You're right; we need to get down there. Sorlon can you create a storm down there from here?" asked Anubys

"Not from here, but it looks like there's a ledge below, I can slow fall down there. It should be close enough to mess with the monster's army and buy some time but I can't do any real damage," replied Sorlon.

"It'll have to work," he said before taking off with Woofyboy close behind. Sorlon jumped off the cliff while casting slow fall on his body, heading for the small ledge below. Slightly misjudging the distance, Sorlon lands on the edge of the ledge and slips, panicking, he tries to grab onto anything he could before falling to his death. Slow fall would take more concentration to cast twice than he currently had. At the last possible second a root holds its ground, allowing Sorlon to pull himself up onto the ledge.

Looking down below Sorlon sees, Gingerdread and the others in the fight for their lives. Swords, axes and shields clash together. Gingerdread attempted to hold back the Orc's leader in a losing fight, every blow blocked by his shield pushed him backwards. Every attack fell short, unable to get his footing for a powerful strike. Sorlon raised his arms into the air, chanting an ancient language. Opening his eyes, they now glowed blue as he channels frost magic to form a storm cloud over the fight below, quickly Sorlon lowers his arms. A gust of wind descends around the Alliance fighters, throwing back all the Orcs except one.

Pushing through the great wind the massive orc lunges forward swinging his two handed weapon, the weapon smashes into Gingerdread's shield sending him sliding through the mud on his back. The Orc's next swings killed the remaining unprepared and shocked footmen. Setting his eyes on Gingerdread the Orc began to slowly move forward, the smaller orcs struggled to rise to their feet while the rest stood outside of the storms reach waiting.

Realizing the storm wasn't affecting him, Gingerdread rolled forward slicing at the giant's leg. The Orc howled, reaching down grabbing Gingerdread by his throat. Picking the Dwarf up, shaking lose his weapons before staring him in the face, foaming at the mouth the Orc roars. "Vulk crush puny human!"

"I'm a Dwarf you num skull!" Gingerdread replied as best he could, without air from the Orc squeezing his throat. Gingerdread pulled a dagger from his armor, stabbing the Orc's hand, digging the blade in and twisting.

The Orc slams Gingerdread into the ground, the dagger lost from his grip before being raised back into the air. Vulk's eyes, a solid red color, glared back at him, "stupid human!" Vulk applied more pressure to the dwarf's neck, slightly weakened by the wound. Sorlon pushed his mind beyond its limits, centering all of the storms might down on Vulk, rocks, stones and sticks flew into his body, forcing Vulk to cover his face with his free hand. Vulk dropped Gingerdread in a moment of weakness, hiding his face with his hands, protecting it.

The sudden change in wind allowed the struggling Orc army to advance forward, sprinting with rage, from being held back from the fight. Gingerdread made his way to the small back door leading out of the keep grounds, the same door used by all those that fled the Keep moments before. Coughing as he tries to catch his breath, his neck bright red from the Vulk's hand. Sorlon falls to his knees, exhausted from over doing it, taking a moment to gather his strength. Upon reaching the door, Gingerdread went through, closing it behind him. Three footmen dragging a wagon cart behind them approached Gingerdread, pulling it in to block the door. Gingerdread broke the carts wheels, creating a small window of opportunity for the four of them to run to Lakeshire. Seconds later the door shook, Orcs smashing against it. Pieces of wood splintered off as the door's hinges broke loose.

"Sir all of the town's people have retreated into the town hall's storm shelter, we'll all be slaughtered, there's nowhere else to go," cried one of the terrified footmen running alongside Gingerdread.

"We'll have to buy as much time as we can, help has to be on the way that wind didn't come from out of nowhere!" replied Gingerdread. The keep's door broke in two, the cart shoved out of the way; Orcs continued their pursuit on their fleeing prey. "Does Lakeshire still give shelter to a group of warlocks by chance?"

"Yes I believe so," replied the footman.

"Get them quick; meet us at Alther's Mill, the rest of you with me!" ordered Gingerdread to the two other footmen. Taking cover at Stonewatch Tower that stood overlooking the lake and wood mill that marked the half way point to Lakeshire. Gingerdread led the two footmen around to the front of the tower's rim a small wall that circled the tower, "climb the wall, jump down the other side," Gingerdread ordered. "That'll confuse them briefly." The three headed for Alther's Mill to make their final stand, hopping the warlocks will be along once the footman reached Lakeshire.

Sorlon watched from above, still trying to gather his strength, witnessing the Orcs moving their siege weapons into the keep grounds. Minutes later they began to fire on the outer wall, obviously wanting to take the siege weapons with them to Lakeshire. Vulk slowly followed the many other orcs to the keep's outer tower, upon reaching it; he is greeted by an empty tower. Looking out the towers silted window, Vulk sees his prey fleeing down the hillside. "After them maggots!" he calls out.

Charging forward the Orcs threw spears into the air, attempting to impale those fleeing. Gingerdread looks back hearing the sounds of fast flying objects. "Take cover!" he calls out, pushing one footman behind a tree stump, jumping behind the footman. Gingerdread is forced to watch the other footman fall victim to the spears falling around them. Rising back to his feet, "quick we're almost there!" he says kicking up dirt along the way.

"What are we going to do Ginger? We can't fight them by ourselves!"

"There's no turning back now, we have a town to save private!" Gingerdread replied to the terrified footman. Running into the Mill, Gingerdread pulls a dagger from his belt. Leaping into the doorway while looking back, tossing the dagger into the closest Orc's torso. Gingerdread slid into the Mill's hay covered floor. The two of them slammed the door shut, lifting the door's block of wood locking mechanism into place. Seconds after the lock was in place Orcs smashed into the door with such force the Mill's wall shook violently.

Dust fell lose from the building's roof, filling the room with a thick cloud of dirt. Axes splintered the door to pieces, but the door held strong. "Brace for combat lad, they'll be breaking through soon," spoke Gingerdread. A series of thuds were heard and then silence… as if the Orcs just stopped their attack. Gingerdread slowly approached the door, looking out the axe created holes, shocked by what he saw.

Frosty had arrived from the mountain, shooting a multi-shot of arrows into the Orc's backs. Frosty shot many more arrows into the green mass of Orcs rushing forward from the ruined Keep. One Orc evaded the arrows, closing in on Frosty raising his weapon to strike. A wolf leaps from the mountain pass latching jaws into the Orc's arm, teeth tearing into flesh. Frosty ignored the scene, continuing to shoot into the approaching army, knowing well enough that his wolf could handle itself.

The Vulk pushes stumbling Orcs, attempting to dodge arrows, out of his way, Vulk let out the loudest, wettest howl of rage Frosty has ever heard. "You are one ugly mother-," Frosty began to say, cut off by two orcs coming from the side. Frosty stabs one with an arrow drawing his bow string back, and he uses the same arrow now coated in green blood to shoot the other Orc between its eyes. The massive Orc named Vulk used this distraction to close the distance to Frosty as many more orcs ran past clashing into the Mill's door furious and eager to fight the cowards that ran away from them. Frosty let go of his bow, allowing it to drop to the ground. Both Frosty and Vulk draw their weapons clashing together; sounds of thunder and steel are heard echoed throughout the area.

Sword and Axe danced together, attempting to land a killing blow but failing to do so as each strike was blocked and parried. Frosty takes a step forward with his right foot, strikes low causing the Vulk to low his axe to block. Using the momentum of the strike Frosty spins backwards off his left foot, grabbing an arrow from his back in mid spin. Ending the spin, Frosty thrust the arrow into Vulk's eye.

Shocked Vulk howls with pain filled rage kicking Frosty in his gut. Vulk pulls the arrow from his eye socket, disgusted by the sight of his eye ball impaled on the arrow he tosses it to the side. Frosty coughed out blood, falling to a knee. Vulk's blow had knocked the wind out of him.

Vulk raised his giant axe into the air, his left eye glowed bright red with hate, and the other oozed green blood. The axe descended towards Frosty, giving just enough time to roll off to the side before the axe cleaved into the ground sending a shock wave of dirt into the air. In Vulk's brief struggle to unearth his axe, Frosty's wolf joined the fight. Biting deep into Vulk's right side, Frosty slashed his sword across the Orc's chest. In reaction Vulk lowered to his knees, his whole body screaming from pain. Frosty wanted quickly finish off the Orc, pulling his offhand sword from his side, lunging forward with both swords.

Vulk raised his arm at the last possible second to shield himself from the blow, the two swords sliced into his arm. Simultaneously grabbing onto the wolf's neck and squeezing, yelping from pain as it was pulled lose and tossed into the bushes. Frosty lost grip of his weapons as Vulk twisted his arm around, pulling a dagger from his boots Frosty stabbed into the Orc's left kidney. Vulk once again howled with mixed pain and rage, punching Frosty in his chest with his other arm.

Frosty screamed as he flew backwards into the Orcs bashing into the Mill's still standing door, shattering the door to pieces, falling to the floor within the Mill next to Gingerdread and the footman. The Orcs lay lifeless or unconscious below Frosty.

Coughing up more blood Frosty is helped to his feet, "That monster just won't die!" Frosty says, spitting out the remainder blood within his mouth.

"He looks like a walking corpse," replied Gingerdread. "I sent for warlocks, they should be arriving soon, did you come alone?"

"No I was scouting ahead, Arcadia's entire spec-ops team is on their way," Frosty said, still coughing, his body aching and bruised. Frosty looked out to Vulk, taking in all his wounds. Vulk was missing his right eye, many cuts and scratches along his whole body from the wind. Frosty's wolf's bite and claw wounds to Vulk's right side, his swords still in Vulk's left arm, a stab wound to his right hand, a stab wound to his left kidney and finally a slash to his right leg. "The beast is signaling to something within his army, this can't be good," said Frosty, watching the massive Orc remove the swords from his arm.

All of the Orcs Frosty was thrown through were rising to their feet, quickly subdued by Gingerdread. Looking up towards the Keep, Gingerdread gasps, "he's calling their siege weapons, and we'll be sitting ducks in here."

Frosty begins to laugh between coughs, "we'll just have to rush out to meet them." Looking up into the mountain, seeing Sorlon upon a ledge channeling, "our mage will take care of the siege weapons."

"So be it. Charge!" yelled Gingerdread, followed closely by the other two.

Two lines of Orcs formed up with Vulk standing between the Orcs and siege weapons. More Orc reinforcements entered into the Keep grounds, making their way to Vulk. Vulk screamed something only his fellow Orcs could understand, suddenly the siege weapons fired, hurling boulders towards the three charging forward.

Great winds picked up from the mountain side, sending one boulder into the Orcs, crushing many. The boulder rolled back into the very siege weapon that cast it out. The other three boulders crash landed harmlessly around Gingerdread and Frosty while the footman cowered behind them. Two siege weapons were being turned and aimed at the mountains after noticing the mage. While the last shot another boulder at the three advancing forward. Sorlon had little time to deflect the lone boulder into the siege weapon that shot it before two boulders descended upon him. Boulders crashed into the mountain side, forcing Sorlon to leap off, falling down the mountain side followed closely by many rocks and mountain dirt.

Sorlon took one final strike, sending fire balls towards the siege weapons. The fire balls destroyed the remaining siege weapons as Frosty watched his friend fall from the mountain followed by a rock avalanche. Sorlon fell into the dirt, followed by a blinding light and the avalanche, Frosty hoped the blinding light had been Sorlon saving himself at the last minute.

"Charge forward brothers, while they are weakened," ordered Gingerdread as he continued the charge. They clashed into the Orc lines, over half of them reduced by the first boulder. Quickly the three overcame the Orcs, faced with Vulk still bleeding from all his wounds. The Orc reinforcements were coming through the south wall, only moments away from aiding their leader.

Vulk grabs a piece of a nearby siege weapon, slamming it into Gingerdread and the footman, knocking them out of the fight. Frosty rolled out of the way, picking up his swords the Orc has tossed to the ground earlier. "It ends here monster!" yelled Frosty, rushing forward. Vulk laughed as he stomped his foot onto the ground, causing the siege weapon pieces lying upon the ground to shake. Frosty lost his footing, falling backwards onto his back.

Frosty attempted to get up but was pushed back down by the massive Orc's foot. Frosty grabbed a sharp dagger like piece of metal from the siege weapons and swung it cutting off two fingers of the giant hand coming down to his face. Vulk grunts in pain and pushed down hard on Frosty's chest, causing him to cough up more blood. Hearing chatter in the distance, Vulk looks up and is greeted by four warlocks and another footman running past the Mill. Vulk slams his foot down harder, crushing Frosty's rib cage.

A gnome warlock calls down a rain of fire on the Orcs reinforcements coming from the Keep, another warlock channels the rain of fire, turning the descending fire to acid burning the Orc's flesh. The last two of Lakeshire's warlocks finished their empowerment spell, causing green Fel fire to rise from the earth journeying up their legs slowly changing themselves into demonic beings. "Perfect!" called out Vulk, quickly closing the distance to the two warlocks. Grabbing them by their throats, Vulk lifted them off the ground, "exactly what I needed humans!"

The Fel fire descended down the warlock's legs returning their legs to normal. The spell, having been finished transferred over to Vulk. Filling him with demonic power, his glowing red eye began to shift to a dark green blackish mist. Squeezing his fists, Vulk crushed the warlock's necks, howling from the surge in power, tossing the lifeless bodies away from him.

His wounds begin to close, missing fingers grew back. Spikes and horns break through his back and skull. His bright green skin fades to a deep blood red, Vulk's body grew larger. Spikes ripped out of the skin of his arms, turning to the remaining warlocks, Vulk swung his arms. Flesh torn to pieces, the warlock's brief attempt to help only increased Vulk's power. Vulk's gaping hole where his right eye used to be filled with demonic mist, a thicker black mist than his left eye.

His body fully healed, Vulk turned to Gingerdread lying upon the ground. The footman's lifeless body lay meters away. Vulk kicked Gingerdread unto his back, reached down picking him up once again by his neck. "Time to die," said Vulk, his voice filled with a deep demonic presence. Gingerdread gasps for breath before losing consciousness.

"Not so fast!" called a voice from behind. The massive demonic Orc turns around howling with a deeper rage sending gas fibers out into the air, just in time to see Anubys' blade slice his throat open. The demonic Orc looks out past the human gasping, clasping at the wound with his right hand. Dropping Gingerdread to the ground, awoken by the sudden crash upon the ground. Coughing as he regains his breath.

Vulk falls to his knees, witnessing the group coming from the mountain pass cutting through his Orc warriors like lambs to the slaughter.

Woofyboy jumps onto the stump of a chopped down tree and fires his gun picking off the few Orcs trying to run away. "This is for my friend!" Anubys screams as he takes another swing at the demonic Orc, cutting off its head. Bursting into green flame the Orc's body falls to the ground, the demonic power returns to the earth below.

Arcadia's spec ops team runs past Anubys and Gingerdread, chasing after the remaining Orc forces. Anubys kneeled at Frosty's body, a single tear ran down his face, "You were always a brave man, Frosty," he said.

"He saved my life, I'm sorry for your loss," Gingerdread said, coming closer to Anubys.

"He saved many lives, today," replied Anubys, "if only we didn't stop for a moments rest within the mountain, he'd still be with us." Anubys lowers his head, closes his eyes and remembers the Troll wars, fighting alongside Frosty. The many memories of his friend would be with him for the rest of his life.


	2. Chapter 2

PART TWO

Far away in an unknown cave a large green dragon sleeps. Eyes ever moving by the vision the dragon has within the dream world, a vision of a future that would come to pass if nothing was done now. For all dragons lived in fear of this enemy for nearly ten thousand years.

"Demons of the Burning Legion!" echoed within the cave as the dragon talked in its sleep. For in the dream the dragon saw the dark portal, a device linked to another world, used to wage war on everything within theirs. However, in this dream the large dragon sees those behind the curtains pulling the Orc's strings. A massive Pit Lord, a demon angry with his pet's failure to destroy the humans. As the dream continues the dragon sees the might of the burning legion pouring through the portal met by a small resistance.

The dream speeds up as it shows the demons lead a band of forces around the resistance, destroying a small mountain town by using the only pass that lead past the main resistance force, resulting in the demon's victory over the only resistance into Azoroth. The vision jumps to a world once filled with life, now a barren waste land with demons wondering around starving for food. The dragon wakes up screaming, to another dragon staring with concern. "What is it Ysera? What has the mighty dragon aspect of the Emerald dream scared so?" spoke the smaller green dragon.

"I must speak to my sister Alexstrasza," calming herself the green aspect called out to her sister using the dream world, begging the queen of all living things to meet her at Wrymrest temple. Ysera rose to her feet as she ran for the exit of her cave, taking flight upon reaching its opening.

Soaring through the air the long trip to the temple for the age old dragon normally would have been a welcomed change from sleeping on her cave floor. This time, however, she was burdened, wing strokes heavy from the nightmare that filled her thoughts. Due to her size each flap of her giant wings carried her six times the distance of even the largest drake, yet each moment felt like an eternity. Hours went by as the sun started to rise off in the distance painting the far away landscape against the horizon.

The tall temple for all aspects was getting closer, great pillars rose out of the ground holding up its three floors. The main floor held the dragon's market, a place allowing the many different dragon flights to trade artifacts between each other. The second floor was home to the temple's defenders, keeping it safe from outsiders while also keeping the peace between the flights. The top floor was a meeting place for the aspects in time of need. Lastly there was a hidden room underground that held portals to a shrine for each of the dragon flights.

Descending to the temple's top floor the green aspect slowly shrank in size, until she started to change forms into a pale pink Night elf, the form she liked most in these meetings. She has long green hair, horns extending from her forehead and eyes glowing bright green as she places her feet upon the temple's floor looking out hoping to see the red aspect, queen of the dragons. But instead Ysera sees an empty floor, sighing in disbelief at her sister not hearing or answering her call.

Pacing around impatiently, Ysera stairs at the marble floor wondering what she could do next or if she should just wait for Alexstrasza. After pacing the floor three times she decides to stay and wait, knowing that her sister would not ignore her cry for help.

Roars below could be heard coming from the temple's second floor, most likely some defenders were waking up for their shift or possibly a few of them were sparring between each other. A practice many dragons did to keep their skills sharp. Peering out into the morning sky the rising sun still created a glorious sunrise upon the snowy mountain tops to the north.

Moments later the sound of large wings flapping in the air could be heard. A red dragon also the size of the temple itself flew down, slowly changing form and shrinking its size as Ysera had before. Only this dragon changed into a bronze colored humanoid with long flowing red hair, eyes equally as bright as Ysera's only these were ruby red, glowing in the morning light. Her head has four large horns, two larger than the other two growing in front came out of the top of her head.

Floating down to Ysera like an angel from the sun's morning rays the dragon queen's face lit up with a bright smile as she greeted the green aspect. "Sister!" holding out her arms to bring in Ysera for a hug. "It's been too long, but what is troubling you?" she asked

"A vision, nightmare really of the future, the demons... they are returning!" she replied tears filling her eyes remembering the cost all dragons paid to banish them the last time nearly ten thousand years ago. That cost brought to them by the traitor now known as Deathwing.

Ysera explains her vision to her queen and sister, pleading with her to help and to put her mind to rest. The red flight has been the only flight to intervene with the lesser races in history, all other flights kept to themselves. All but the bronze flight; whom once fought alongside the Night elves to stop the Silithid, an intelligent insectoid race that threatened to consume and cover the land like a plague.

Because of Deathwing, the aspect of the black flight, all of the other aspects were weaker. He had created an orb he called the Demon soul, saying that all the dragon aspects had to give a portion of their magic power into the orb in order to defeat the demons, when in fact he only wanted their power for himself. Alexstrasza's face no longer bright, brought down by her sister's detailed dream. "I will call upon my consort and we'll figure something out," the dragon queen told her sister, Ysera. "Return to the Emerald dream, protect it in the meantime. Call upon me again if anything changes."

Nodding Ysera turned to leave, returning to her cave the green dragon flight's home. A place they could rest and protect the dream world in peace, as the green flight was tasked with protecting dreams. The red flight protected life, while the blue flight safe guarded magic and the bronze flight watched over time itself. Lastly, the black dragon flight was tasked with protecting the earth, a thing they have not done since their aspect went insane. Since then the black dragons have been trying to remake the world in their image, a world ruled by dragons and all the lesser races are gone.

Alexstrasza looked out at the ice covered coast as she concentrated, calling out to her consort Korialstrasz. Currently Korialstrasz was taking part at the human's magi council at Dalaron, a city in the Alterac Mountains within the eastern kingdoms. The city was created by exiled elves, who then began to teach their magic abilities to the humans. Alexstrasza knew it would take time for her consort to arrive at the temple and that she had time to think things over.

Korialstrasz was attending a meeting with the rest of the council, every member covered in darkness to keep the meetings anonymous. The magi were discussing the current invasion on the lower kingdom. When he felt his queen call out to him the conversation between the magi fell to the back of his mind. With a heavy heart Korialstrasz faded out of the meeting without being noticed.

Hours went by before Alexstrasza's consort arrived at the temple, waiting at her flight's shrine, a place she finds relaxing even after all these years. She sees her consort walk through the portal in his high elf form, a disguise he has grown comfortable with in recent years. The two met under the giant ruby tree, as Alexstrasza explained to her consort Ysera's dream.

After a few moments her consort broke his silence and spoke. "I can use my influence in the magi council to prepare defenses at the dark portal; however that may not be enough without knowing when the demons will attack. With the current invasion they may ignore my warnings." Alexstrasza only nodded knowing her consort was deep in thought. "Perhaps it is time to prepare the Night elves to come out of hiding, they wouldn't ignore this threat, and I know just the dragon to lead them. Your son Yshostrasz has been with them ever since the demons were banished nearly ten thousand years ago."

Smiling Alexstrasza nodded. "He was born to lead, thank you for thinking of him; and the Night elves' help would be most welcomed once again," she replied.

"I'll have a talk with him, I'm sure Yshostrasz would be glad to get out into the world again." Korialstrasz reassured himself and his queen. Korialstrasz took his leave, bowing to his queen before exiting their sacred ground. Once outside he shifted back into his natural form, a mighty red dragon only slightly bigger than the mightiest drake. He headed in the direction of the Night elves hidden island, a gigantic hallow tree protected those inside from the outside world.

Deep inside the forests of Teldrassil a group of Night elves patrolled. Ever since the last demon invasion split their community apart, these elves have lived in fear. For their queen, ten thousand years ago, was the cause of that invasion, when she got greedy with her high elves; a group of elves that have since been banished from the Night elf community. No arcane magic has been allowed to be practiced by any Night elf since. The Night elves have guarded their island, sending patrols out into the forest and sentinels all over their city. Thinking they were safe from the demon's wrath.

The patrol tonight consisted of two druids, two rogues and a priest. Unknown to any other elf, two of the elves that have been living with them for the past ten thousand years, are in fact dragons. They disguise themselves as druids, beings that transform into many different animals. If anyone saw them change into their natural forms it could be written off as just another animal form mastered.

Yshostrasz has been alive for a long time, seen thousands of wars between the lesser races and greater threats such as the burning legion and the Silithid. Yshostrasz is a red dragon born to Alexstrasza and her original consort Tyranastrasz. Old and wise Yshostrasz took isolation with the Night elves he grew fond of, wanting to be there with them during their self-inflicted exile from the outside world.

When he decided to do this, a young bronze dragon by the name of Toptracker asked to join him. After fighting alongside Yshostrasz in the battle to push the Silithid back into their hole, she respected him and wanted to be by his side during his isolation rather than returning to her flight's cave. The war against the bug swarm was her first encounter with the lesser races, understanding why the red dragons acted rather than hiding away in their homes. Toptracker wanted to learn from Yshostrasz, but she also didn't want to stop interacting with the noble Night elves and jumped at the chance.

The two dragons in their Night elf forms patrolled the forests upon their night saber cats. Falling slightly behind Yshomatsu, as he is called by the elves, looked up into the night sky feeling the presence of another dragon. Omaj, a priest, rode past alongside Alinda, a rogue, both elves content riding without a worry. Yshomatsu came to a stop as Scarytone, a rogue, rode back to him, wondering what was up.

"What is it?" Scarytone asked.

"Just admiring the moon light," Yshomatsu lied, not wanting to lie to his good friend but some things were better left alone. No one could tell what would happen if the elves found out dragons have been living with them for close to ten thousand years.

"The moon will be setting soon, we should get back to Darnassis," Scarytone says as his midnight black saber yawns proving its masters words, as it nears the animal's bed time.

Yshomatsu nods, "I will be but a moment longer, gather the others and return to your homes my friend."

Scarytone's cat roared with approval as it was directed towards home, leaping onwards as the others followed close by, only one looks back to see Yshomatsu head the opposite direction. Toptracker, or Beartracker as the night elves call her, slows her saber to a halt as the others disappear from her line of sight. Silently she follows Yshomatsu, having felt another dragon's presence in the area she was curious who it was. Not wanting to interrupt, she made sure her saber didn't make any noise.

Climbing off her saber, Beartracker signaled for the cat to lie down while she inched closer to the edge of the tree, hoping to go unnoticed as she starts eavesdropping on her mentor and this visitor. Peering over the side of the tree she sees Yshomatsu moving slowly into a clearing, one hand behind his back gripping his staff. A shadow moved in the distance, as it came into the setting moon light Beartracker gasped, "Krasus here?" Remembering the elder dragon had chosen to blend with the exiled High elves long ago.

"Ah Krasus, what brings my mother's prime consort here?" asked Yshomatsu releasing the grip on his weapon. Korialstrasz looks over Yshomatsu's shoulder, before speaking Yshomatsu calmed his nerves. "It is only Toptracker; she is young and bold but means no harm."

"I'll get right to the point then, Ysera has had a vision. The demons are returning, they have not given up on destroying our world and will start a full scale invasion staged from another world," Korialstrasz explains.

"Go on," is all Yshomatsu says awaiting the reason Korialstrasz has come to him after all these years Yshomatsu has been in exile.

"Your mother and I thought the time has come for you and the night elves to return to the outside world. My queen wishes to reunite the lesser races in order to stop this coming invasion," continued Korialstrasz. "However we have a special request for you, Alexstrasza believes that her sister's vision is years after the Burning Legion's attacks start. So while the night elves would join the fight right away, we ask you to stay back and train a smaller force to reinforce the small mountain town from Ysera's vision. In the vision this town is all that stands between the demons and their victory over this world.

Deep in thought Yshomatus' reply was not rushed, "I will deliver the news to the night elves' leader to warn them and ask permission to do what you ask of me. Any idea how long we have?" He asked not wanting to put people in a state of panic for something that was hundreds of years away.

Korialstrasz shakes his head no, "We only know that the current attacks on this world are mere puppets of the Burning Legion." Looking Yshomatsu in his eyes, "I would not delay for I'm sure the more training you give them the better off we all will be."

Yshomatsu nods in agreement. "Very well," he says bowing to the elder dragon before he turns towards Toptracker. "We have work to do, young lady." Toptracker gasps again, not realizing he knew she was there, before blushing and nodding to show she understands. The two dragons in their night elf forms mount their night sabers and ride off. They push their cats to their limits, wanting to reach the city quickly.

Scarytone looks out the city gates wondering where the two druids were. After many moments of pacing the area he hears birds scatter in the distance. Seeing the druid's night sabers leap over the shrubbery at full speed, "Ancients be on guard something might be coming this way!", he said to the vast trees around him, just as a few of them began to move in response.

"Stand down," called Yshomatsu, "it's alright, but I must speak to High Priestess Tyrande Whisperwind." He jumps off his night saber handing the reins to Scarytone as he speed walks towards the cities' temple. Beartracker stays behind to help Scarytone put their cats to rest for the coming day. She shrugs pretending not to know what is going on, not knowing herself what could or couldn't be said about the visitor. The ancient guardians return to their normal stance discussing amongst themselves with the surrounding trees.

Once he reached the temple Yshomatsu called out to the priestess, Tyrande, who currently leads the night elves while Malfurion Stormrage has slept for the past ten thousand years in the Emerald dream. The temple was built around a small moon well, the main source of the night elves remaining power and immortality. Looking into the temple Yshomatsu spots the priestess on the second floor talking to Omaj, the priest that was on patrol with him tonight.

Making his way up the ramp leading to them, Yshomatsu bowed to Omaj as he takes his leave. Looking towards the priestess Yshomatsu bows lower. "High Priestess Tyrande Whisperwind, I have dire news," he said, "as a druid connected to the Emerald dream I have received a vision from Ysera herself." Yshomatsu lies to protect his true identity, "The demons are still trying to destroy this world, and currently they are using puppets from another world. They have opened a portal in a faraway land and we have been asked to prepare ourselves to unite with the other lesser races when the time comes. With your permission I would also like to train a small group on the side to be an elite demon slaying squad."

Leaning back against the railing the shocked priestess replies, "Somehow we all knew this day would come, I do not want to wake Malfurion or the rest of his druids until we are sure. However in the mean time you may select your group for training just in case and give me time to think and process everything."

Yshomatsu bows once again and takes his leave. "My lady," he says as he turns to walk away. Upon leaving the temple he sees Beartracker waiting for him with a shy smile on her face. Standing next to her is Scarytone and Omaj. Yshomatsu walks up to them and says, "Pick your best elves Scary; we are going to have a lot of training to do in the years ahead."

Scarytone salutes Yshomatsu as he replies, "As you wish my friend," walking off with Omaj at his side.

Looking back to Beartracker, Yshomatsu smiles, "Our exile will be over soon." Beartracker attempts to suppress her joy as they both turn around walking after the others. "There's a lot to do until then and we don't know exactly how much time we have."

Sometime later, back at Arcadia, a beaten man covered in his own blood stumbles down a hillside path leading into town. Tripping on his own feet, he rolls down the path into town screaming along the way. A few of the town's people come out of their homes, stirred by the screams. The tumbling man covered in his own blood crashes into the town's stables, snapping the wooden doors keeping the horses inside. He comes to a stop covered in the wooden door shards as the startled horses flee the scene.

Running to the stables the town's leader, Anubys, picks up the shards of wood throwing them to the side. Reaching down Anubys props the beaten man up on his knee, wiping his face clear of debris, blood and sweat. "What has happened," Anubys asks, straining his eyes.

Coughing up his blood the man tries to speak but cannot. He begins to cough uncontrollably as Anubys turns him over, preventing him from choking on his blood, placing his palm upon his forehead. Chanting under her breath the town's young paladin tries to heal the man's wounds, succeeding in only stopping his coughing fit. Once again he tries to speak only this time he spits out blood before he speaks.

"They attacked again; this time by sea no one expected it. Stormwind has been sacked, the king slain. The rest of the Alliance has fled north to Lordaeron. I barely escaped but was not followed here, for they have grown cocky atop their red dragon mounts!" The man spoke between coughs.

"Dragons, How is that possible?" asked Anubys.

"The dragon's queen herself tried to stop their invasion but was captured along with another old dragon, now the green monsters hatch their own eggs to use as they wish."

"What can we do now?" asked the young paladin shell shocked from the news.

The blood covered man sighs, "What can we do, we're cut off from any help, the monsters have taken up base at the Blackrock Mountain cutting off any hope to head north to our allies."

"We will stay alert, ready ourselves for when the time is right we will strike and turn the tides of war," explained Anubys.

Yshomatsu walks into a clearing in the forest, a place out of the way of the city where the training of select night elves into an elite squad of assassins can begin. Looking out to the many recruits sparring together he spots Scarytone directing them. Yshomatsu moves towards his second in command, "How is their training coming along Scary?" he asks upon reaching the elf's side.

"Very good old friend, the new recruits you found are fitting in well with our veteran fighters," Scarytone explained. Pointing to a prime example ahead of him, Alinda fought alongside a new recruit by the name of Sithslayer. Both rogues sparred against Omaj and Rockwar, a warrior wielding two swords. Daggers and swords clash as spells are cast.

Nodding in approval Yshomatsu says, "Very good, I have a few druids in mind to wake up from the Emerald dream. Beartracker will help you with training while I am away."

"Very good sir, good hunting," Scarytone replies as he bows. Looking back to the four practicing just in time to see Alinda lock weapons with Rockwar twisting her daggers until Rockwar loses his grip, his weapons flying off to the sides. Sithslayer takes a running leap smacking Rockwar's shoulder blade with the hilt of his dagger, but before landing Sithslayer is hit by a blast of holy energy. He is disoriented by the blast just as Rockwar lashes out from the blow to his shoulder moments ago, knocking Sithslayer to the ground. Omaj laughs as Alinda slides behind him, kicking out his knees, bringing down her open palm sideways into Omaj's throat. Causing Omaj to gasp for breath as he falls backwards onto the ground with a loud thud, hands clenching at his throat while he rolls around in the mud.

Back flipping and twisting her body in mid-air, Alinda brings herself over Rockwar, landing on his shoulders Alinda leans back causing Rockwar to fall backwards, as she also places him in a choke hold.

"Excellent!", called Scarytone from the side, "remember not to get over confident or you'll let your guard down without realizing it. That's how heroes meet their doom," he explains.

Still gasping for air Omaj looks up, "-cough- right -cough-," sitting down, waving his hand in the air casting a divine shield over himself. He wants to have a moment to think so he and Rockwar can win the next round.

Yshomatsu enters a small abandoned cave, sitting down at its center by the bonfire he created moments before. He crosses his feet, placing his hands on his knees as he meditates preparing to enter the Emerald dream. Taking deep breaths the cave around him begins to change. A green fog fills the cave as unnatural plants descended from between the stone cracks of the cave.

Opening his eyes Yshomatsu looks around, realizing he is in the Emerald dream but something was wrong within the fog, a foul taste filled his mouth. Something evil lurks nearby, something between the dream world and the outside. Yshomatsu slowly moves towards the cave's exit, reaching out he moves the long vines now covering the area aside as he peers out into the clearing ahead.

Off in the distance he sees a demon hound wonder into another cave, "Demons in the dream?" Confused, Yshomatsu floats quickly over to the other cave. Silently he places his feet on the ground leaning into the rocks, looking in to see the hound pass around a corner. About to step into the darkness he hears a feint whisper.

"Come to me elf, join the others enjoying the pleasures I offer."

Yshomatsu shakes his head, looking around but not seeing anyone. The seductive voice lingers on his mind as he ignores his gut and steps into the cave after the hound, his footsteps silenced by the green moss covered ground. He thought he heard a feminine giggle, but it was probably his mind playing tricks on him so he took another deep breath filling his lungs with the fog and moved forward. After a few moments, before he reached the corner ahead where the hound vanished from sight, he heard the feint whisper again.

"Mmm, your blood smells delicious," a girl said, her voice husky with lust.

Yshomatsu shakes his head trying to clear this clouded mind, only this time it took twice as long. He did not notice the green fog that filled the dream was in fact corrupted and every breath weakened his willpower. Upon reaching the corner Yshomatsu tilts his head over to peer ahead around the caves tunnel. Hoping to go unnoticed he spies into a larger cavern, seeing the druids he entered the dream to find chained to the walls and tied to the ground. At the caverns center stood who Yshomatsu could only guess was the girl's voice in his head. Only this was no girl, but a Succubus. A foul demon that seduced beings with lustful thoughts and sucked out their life and soul until only a withered shell remained.

Time slowed till Yshomatsu couldn't tell how long he starred, transfixed by the demon's body. Her skin was blood red and long hair the color of night swept down onto her shoulders, descending around two leathery wings similar to those of a bat's folded up from her back. Her hair continued down coming to an end just barely covering her butt. A thin tail, tipped with a flat arrowhead point, writhed like a serpent between her legs.

The Succubus' pet, the hound, was now at her side as she looked back over her shoulder and locked eyes with Yshomatsu. Shocked by her look he tried to back away but couldn't will his feet to move, for the fog had formed into a thick layer of rolling mist upon the ground. Yshomatsu didn't even realize he was taking a few steps towards the Succubus until he shook his head, trying to shake off the tendrils of lust strangling his thoughts.

The next thing he knew, Yshomatsu was standing in the center of the room with his hands chained above his head. Before him stood the Succubus, once again they locked eyes as Yshomatsu stared into her empty orbs like two pits opening onto a black abyss. The Succubus placed her arms around his neck as she whispered in his ear.

"I'll show you pleasures no mortal has ever experienced," her soft lips pressed against his cheek in a kiss. Yshomatsu shoved his shoulder into her, sending her back into the far wall of the cavern. The demon smiled as strands of her wavy black hair fell down in front of her face. Yshomatsu took this time to look around at the other druids chained around the area, all their expressions seemed to be filled with ecstasy unaware of the event transpiring next to them. Upon the side wall were Liber, Omajin and Hackplanta, all female druids with different color hair; on the ground at the other side of the cavern laid Apollruid, a young male druid Yshomatsu didn't think had seen many wars in his life.

Looking back to the far wall he noticed that the Succubus wasn't there and in fact was nowhere to be seen. Thinking to himself; Yshomatsu wonders if any of the druids here even knew they were under attack, if they had been resting in this cave when the Succubus struck. Yshomatsu begins to feel air lightly being blown on the back of his neck, quickly losing track of what he was thinking about as a shiver runs up his spine.

"The things I'm going to show you, my little elf," she chuckled darkly. "I sense power in you, far greater than any I have felt before. I'm going to take my time with you and savor this."

An even more pungent odor filled the cave, piercing Yshomatsu's nostrils with gilded fish hooks as she reeled in her helpless prey. It was the damnable mist. Every breath he took filled his lungs with a cloying perfume that sapped his strength and filled his mind with unwholesome images.

"Let me be your temptress and we'll do things together that would shame even the great Titans themselves," the Succubus continued.

Yshomatsu snapped his eyes open. He had to stay alert. This wasn't a dream he was just in the Emerald dream, the spirit world. His skin tingled where her lips had brushed against it, eager to feel her kisses again. Yshomatsu tried to put it out of his mind.

"It will feel exquisite even as I suck out your soul," the demon whispered in his ear.

Yshomatsu was reminded again of what she was and the danger she presented. It spurred him into squirming free of her pleasurable embrace. He thrashed backwards and knocked her body off of him. The Succubus was laughing even as she hit the floor. She got back to her feet with cat-like grace. "I know your type," she smiled, fires burning in her once black filled eyes. "You want a devil not an angel. You want a slut to lead you through all the unspeakable acts you dare not ask for."

Just then Yshomatsu's eyes flared red as he was given a vision by his aunt Ysera, of his mother and father being captured by an unknown race of beings (possibly the one Korialstrasz talked about) who held... the Demon Soul! The very device the traitor Deathwing used to steal power from all the other dragon aspects. He was filled with the fresh clarity and deep regret that he wasn't there to stop their capture. Yshomatsu screams out as the essence of the red dragon flight lashes out from his body.

For the first time since she entered the Emerald dream at her masters command the Succubus showed fear as she was thrown back into the hound that had been laying down awaiting any magic used by Yshomatsu so that it could feed. However as the Succubus landed on the hound, she had interrupted its chance.

The chains shattered as the pieces fell to the ground. Yshomatsu's arms began to grow, his night elf hands slowly turned into claws as his neck grew and his head returned to its natural state. Descending down to all fours, wings sliced out of his back. A long tail covered in razor sharp shards of bone grew out from behind him.

The demon hound leapt at the forming dragon, hundreds of teeth sank into the red scales of Yshomatsu's neck. The dragon's roar fills the cavern, a wing crashed down into the hound sending it to the ground, the sound of bones shattering could be heard. Yshomatsu lowered his head clamping down his strong jaws hard; causing a yelp of pain from the demon hound as it was chewed and swallowed by the formed dragon now finished his transformation, only smaller in size to fit in the cavern.

Yshomatsu turns and grins as he spots the once over confident Succubus now cowering in the corner shaking as she whispers, "I knew... I... sensed... great power" below her breath, still trembling as the dragon reached with a clawed hand and lifted the Succubus up. The clawed hand squeezing the trapped predator, now the dragons prey.

"I am no mere mortal," Yshomatsu growled, puffing out his scales for effect. "Now RELEASE THEM!" His roar echoed throughout the many tunnels and caverns.

13


	3. Chapter 2 and a half

_This chapter was created to bridge the gap in time for my friends. (source use, wowiki)_

Part Two and a Half

Many years have passed since the orcs sacked Stormwind; taking their victory to heart the orcs expanded their conquest too far, too fast. Ner'zhul had failed to destroy the Alliance, instead having all the orcs under his command rounded up into camps controlled by the humans.

Seeing the Burning Legion's pawn's failure, Kil'jaeden, one of the demon lords, sought to punish the orc's leader Ner'zhul. The next phase of the demon's plan was to control the dead, and to do so the demons needed to create a being to lead them. For Ner'zhul's punishment he was chosen to be the Lich King via the slow, torturous destruction of his physical form. Once the transformation was complete the Lich King was placed in a frozen throne within Northrend and tasked with creating an undead army.

However the defeated orc was far more ambitious than the demon lord expected, Ner'zhul sought out a host body to corrupt and take over so he could leave his throne of ice he was frozen inside. While the Lich King was busy seeking a powerful host, a noble orc rose from the ashes of the old horde. Saving his people from captivity, freeing them all from the demon's grasp, the orcs sailed west to find a new land to call home.

The noble orc named Thrall led the orcs to the continent of Kalimdor after receiving a warning from Medev. There they founded a new homeland with the help of their tauren brethren. Naming their new home Durotar, after Thrall's murdered father, the orcs settled down to rebuild their once glorious society. Now that the demon curse was ended, the Horde changed from a war-like juggernaut into more of a loose coalition, dedicated to survival and prosperity rather than conquest. Aided by the noble tauren and the cunning trolls of the Darkspear tribe, Thrall and his orcs looked forward to a new era of peace in their own land. The remaining Alliance forces under Jaina Proudmoore settled in southern Kalimdor, off the eastern coast of Dustwallow marsh, they built the rugged port city of Theramoore. There, the humans and their dwarven allies worked to survive in a land that would always be hostile to them. Though the defenders of Durotar and Theramoore kept the tentative truce with one another, the fragile colonial serenity was not meant to last.

The peace between the orcs and humans was shattered by the arrival of a massive Alliance fleet, the fleet, under the command of Jaina's father, Grand Admiral Daelin Proudmoore. He had left Lordaeron before Arthas had destroyed the kingdom. Having sailed for many grueling months, Admiral Proudmoore was searching for any Alliance survivors he could find.

Proudmoore's armada posed a serious threat to the stability of the region. As a renowned hero of the second war, Jaina's father was a staunch enemy of the Horde, and he was determined to destroy Durotar before the orcs could gain a foothold in the land.

The Grand Admiral forced Jaina to make a terrible decision, support her father in battle against the orcs and betray her new found allies, or fight her own father to maintain the fragile peace that the Alliance and Horde had finally attained. After much soul searching, Jaina chose the latter and helped Thrall defeat her crazed father. Unfortunately Admiral Proudmoore died in battle before Jaina could reconcile with him or prove that orcs were no longer bloodthirsty monsters. For her loyalty, the orcs allowed Jaina's forces to return home safely to Theramoore.

Soon after the Burning Legion sent an invasion force to attack Azoroth, their first wave went right for Azoroth's world tree and would have destroyed it if all the world's nations didn't unite together as one. Even with everyone putting their differences aside they would have failed if the night elves spirits didn't sacrifice themselves as a final stand destroying the Arch-demon Archimonde and severing the Legion's anchor to the well of Eternity. This battle shook the continent of Kalimdor to its roots. Unable to draw power from the well itself, The Burning Legion crumbled under the combined might of the united armies.

During this time Illidan was released from his ten thousand years of prison, who soon after consumed the energies of Gul'dan's skull developing demonic features and vastly magnified power. He also gained some of Gul'dan's old memories, most importantly those of the Tomb of Sargeras, the island dungeon rumored to hold the remains of the dark Titan, Sargeras.

Bristling with power and free to roam the world once more, Illidan set out to find his own place in the world. However, Kil'jaeden confronted Illidan and made him an offer he could not refuse. Kil'jaeden was angered by Archimonde's defeat at mount Hyjal, but he had greater concerns than vengeance. Sensing that his creation, the Lich King, was growing too powerful to control, Kil'jaeden ordered Illidan to destroy Ner'zhul and put an end to the undead Scourge once and for all. In exchange, Illidan would receive untold power and a true place amongst the remaining lords of the Burning Legion.

Illidan agreed and immediately set out to destroy the frozen throne, the icy crystal cask in which the Lich King's spirit resided. Illidan knew that he would need a mighty artifact to destroy the frozen throne. Using the knowledge he had gained from Gul'dan's memories, Illidan decided to seek out the tomb of Sargeras and claim the dark Titan's remains. He called in some old Highborn debts and lured the serptine Naga from their dark under sea lairs. Led by the cunning witch Lady Vashj the Naga helped Illidan reach the broken Isles, where Sargeras' tomb was rumored to be located.

As Illidan set out with the Naga, Warden Maiev Shadowsong began to hunt him. Maiev had been Illidan's jailor for his ten thousand years and relished the prospect of recapturing him. However, Illidan outsmarted Maiev and her watchers and succeeded in claiming the eye of Sargeras despite their efforts. With the powerful eye in his possession, Illidan traveled to the former wizard-city of Dalaran. Strengthened by the city's ley power lines, Illidan used the Eye to cast a destructive spell against the Lich King's citadel of Icecrown in distant Northrend. Illidan's attack shattered the Lich King's defenses and ruptured the very root of the world. At the final moment, Illidan's destructive spell was stopped when his brother Malfurion and the Priestess Tyrande arrived to aid Maiev.

Knowing that Kil'jaeden would not be pleased with his failure to destroy the frozen throne, Illidan fled to the dimension on the other side of the Dark Portal called Outland; the last remnants of Draenor, the orc's former home world. There he planned to evade Kil'jaeden's wrath and plan his next moves. After they succeeded in stopping Illidan, Malfurion and Tyrande returned home to Ashenvale forest to watch over their people. Maiev, however, would not quit so easily, and followed Illidan to Outland, determined to bring him to Justice.

At this time, the undead Scourge had essentially transformed Lordaeron and Quel'thalas into the toxic Plaguelands. There were only a few pockets of Alliance resistance forces left. One such group, consisting primarily of high elves, was led by the last of the Sunstrider dynasty: Prince Kael'thas. Kael, an accomplished wizard himself, grew wary of the failing Alliance. The High Elves grieved for the loss of their homeland and decided to call themselves Blood Elves in honor of their fallen people. Yet as they worked to keep the Scourge at bay, they suffered greatly at being cut off from the sunwell that had empowered them. Desperate to find a cure for his people's racial addiction to magic, Kael did the unthinkable: he embraced his people's Highborn ancestry and joined with Illidan and his Naga in hopes of finding a new magical power source upon which to feed. The remaining Alliance commanders condemned the Blood Elves as traitors and cast them out for good.

With no place left to go, Kael and his blood elves followed Lady Vashj to Outland to help contest the warden Maiev, who had recaptured Illidan. With the combined Naga and Blood Elf forces, they managed to defeat Maiev and free Illidan from her grasp. Based in Outland, Illidan gathered his forces for a second strike against the Lich King and his fortress of Icecrown.

Ner'zhul, the Lich King, knew that his time was short. Imprisoned within the frozen throne, he suspected that Kil'jaeden would send his agents to destroy him. The damaged caused by Illidan's spell had ruptured the frozen throne, thus, the Lich King was losing his power daily. Desperate to save himself, he called his greatest mortal servant to his side, the death knight Prince Arthas.

Though his powers were drained by the Lich King's weakness, Arthas had been involved in a civil war in Lordaeron. Half of the standing undead forces, led by the banshee Sylvanas Windrunner, staged a coup for control over the undead empire. Arthas, called by the Lich King, was forced to leave the Scourge in the hands of his lieutenant, Kel'thuzad, as the war escalated throughout the Plaguelands.

Ultimately, Sylvanas and her rebel undead she called the Forsaken claimed the ruined capital city of Lordaeron as their own. Constructing their own bastion beneath the wrecked city, the Forsaken vowed to defeat the Scourge and drive Kel'thuzad and his minions from the land.

Weakened, but determined to save his master, Arthas reached Northrend only to find Illidan's Naga and Blood Elves waiting for him. He and his Nerubian allies raced against Illidan's forces to reach the Icecrown Glacier and defend the frozen throne.

Even weakened as he was, Arthas ultimately outmaneuvered Illidan and reached the frozen throne first. Using his runeblade, Frostmourne, Arthas shattered the Lich King's icy prison and thereby released Ner'zhul's enchanted helm and breastplate.

Arthas placed the unimaginably powerful helm on his head and became the new Lich King. Ner'zhul and Arthas' spirits fused into a single mighty being, just as Ner'zhul had always planned. Illidan and his troops were forced to flee back to Outland in disgrace, while Arthas became one of the most powerful entities the world has ever seen.

The Scourge and the Burning Legion had all but destroyed the civilizations of Lordaeron, and had almost finished the job in Kalimdor. There were forests to heal, bodies to bury, and homelands to settle. The war had wounded each race deeply, but they had selflessly banded together to attempt a new beginning, starting with the uneasy truce between the Alliance and Horde.

5


	4. Chapter 3

Part Three

Waking suddenly from his spirit walk, Etarr, an Orc shaman, shaking as if he'd seen a ghost looking into the giant bon fire burning proud and bright before him. Sitting on the other side is a Troll looking over with concern in his eyes.

"Wad u see mon?" The Troll asked.

"Horrors, my friend, horrors as far as the eyes can see," Etarr's eyes begin to glaze over as he slips back into the spirit walk.

"Wait mon stay wit me, detail what ya be seein," Yoshimon stated.

The Orc's glazed over eyes open and focus on his companion; his body begins to take its name sake as embers from the bone fire spark off towards Etarr. His body heating up as embers and small flames dance around him.

"Home," he speaks with short lived pride, "I am back home in Hellfire, it's a barren wasteland. Nothing like its former glory, our fortress in the area is below me and past that is…" Etarr's eyes open wide and a bright flash disorientates Yoshimon and forces the Troll to look away for a split second. By the time he looks back, he gasps at the sight. Etarr's eyes are covered in flames, bright orange flames oozing forth from his eye sockets.

"Tis spooks me every time I be seein ur spirit form mon…"

Cutting off his Troll friend Etarr continues, "The stairs of destiny; our people's greatest achievement, had it not been for the demon corruption that compelled its creation. Wait, the horrors I saw earlier are massing at the stair's beginning, I'm floating over now." Etarr's face loses all expressions and turns a pale shade of green over the course of the next few seconds, Yoshimon is certain that the Orc even stopped breathing.

"Tell me mon, what do ya see?"

"A Pit Lord… There's a Pit Lord, a giant Pit Lord opening small gateways. Each gateway opened spills forth more demons than I have ever seen. I see four smaller gateways and two large ones. The demons are moving in formation, gathering below the steps. A smaller but no less deadly looking Pit Lord is trying to reopen the Dark Portal! We've been fighting on this side of Azoroth for so long no one thought of the demons coming into this world the same way we did many years ago."

Rising to his feet the flames of his spirit form fade from Etarr's body, his eyes returning to normal. A look of confusion across his brow as he notices his Troll companion is no longer sitting by the bon fire. Etarr hears rapid footsteps coming his way, turning towards them.

"Hurry mon, jump upon your wolf we must warn Thrall," Yoshimon said from atop his orange skinned, black war plated raptor. Followed closely by Etarr's brown timber wolf, Etarr jumped into the air as his mount past him, grabbing onto its reins he pulled himself onto the saddle of the beast. Without a moment to lose the two shamans were off leaving their camping grounds in the Southern Barrens, their bon fire still blazing into the night sky. Heading north the two headed towards Orgrimmar the new home of the Orcs.

The journey was long through the open planes, doing their best to bypass any centaur patrols. The last thing they wanted to deal with, ignoring all thoughts of thirst and hunger… the mission to warn their people of another demon invasion weighted heavy on their hearts.

Etarr looks over to his Troll companion, noticing his over grown Mohawk flopping in the wind. Normally he would have laughed out loud at how ridiculous it looked, however, this time his mind was too focused on the spirit walk. "Those demons…" Not realizing he was speaking out loud, "no matter how many times we fight them off they just keep coming."

Yoshimon glances over barely hearing the young Orc even with his long blue skinned ears known for their acute sense of hearing picking up the tinniest sounds, "Ya mon."

Startled, Etarr nearly fell off his saddle, looking back to Yoshimon after regaining his footing upon his saddle, "What?" was all he could manage to get out before the Troll responded.

"All I be sayin mon… they might keep coming but have ya ever noticed… we be still here kickin?"

The young Orc's spirit rises suddenly, "you're absolutely right Yoshi, we are still here and as long as there's someone left to fight them off, remain we will!" Looking back to their horizon their destination awaits over the next hill and across the river.

Mere moments later the two shamans dismounted their riding companions and headed up the path leading to their Warchief's throne room where he sits with the Troll's leader, Vol'jin, son to the late Darkspear Witchdoctor Sen'jin, and the rest of his war council.

Entering the throne room the shamans are greeted by Thrall's personal guards, who quickly cut them off from getting any closer drawling their axes, ready to defend their Warchief to the death if necessary.

"Stand down, allow them to enter," spoke Thrall, his voice full of pride and honor. A smile upon his face as he realizes who has come to see him, "Ah Etarr has returned, and how might you be faring with your shaman training young pup?"

"Quite well, thank you, Warchief,. However, I come with dire news for you and the war council, "Etarr speaks with a quivering voice, intimidated by the company before him. "I have returned from my spirit walk, successful in completing the task given to me by my mentor, but what I saw needed to be brought to your attention immediately. The demon's are preparing for another strike on our world and are at this very moment attempting to reopen the Dark Portal, the very same portal we as a people came through many years ago."

"They seek to strike while our backs are turned. Etarr, since you discovered this I want you to lead the army. I will gather more forces from our many allies and meet you there." Thrall ordered while thinking he should use this time to warn Lady Proudmoore, after all, they have never beaten back the demons alone before and he owed the humans at least a warning in case they failed.

"For the Horde my Warchief!" replied Etarr, saluting and turning towards the door.

"FOR THE HORDE!" followed everyone else in the room.

Yoshimon placed his new war mail armor on slowly. A gift from Vol'jin, grateful for the gift yet the young shaman still felt out of place wearing it. "I feel… weird mon, not sure I be ready to rush into battle, what about u mon?"

"I yearn for it! Finally my time has come to prove to my people that abandoning my warrior ways was the right decision. I miss the Orcish war cries and our pride in battle. It's what we live for, a glorious death in combat." Etarr's eyes shine with the distant memories of fighting the humans with his tribe, the White claws. "Don't worry, my friend, you are a much better shaman than I, keep calm and connected to the elements and you will make it back with a good story to tell your children someday."

Nodding Yoshimon tightens this last strap to his armor, "let us be off den and get tis over wit." The two shamans pick up their weapons and head for the exit of the small hut the two called home over the past few years since Etarr set off to become a shaman and met Yoshimon by chance along the way to the Valley of trials for his training.

Once outside the two headed for the docks where the Horde's army was currently preparing to set sail for the Swamp of Sorrows. The closest they could get to the Dart Portal without spreading mass panic to the human kingdom that rebuilt itself after the first wars. Where the Orcs, under demonic corruption, had destroyed their capital of Stormwind and slaughtered their King many years ago.

Etarr quickened his pace eager to get onto the ship and put his new powers to the test, using the elements to turn a two month voyage across the world into half the time or better. Once outside of the city the two turned east towards the Orcish docks. Before them a sight neither shaman had ever seen before… the true might of the horde all gathered in one place loading the many ships with all their supplies.

The closer they got, the more Yoshimon realized he was ready. Taking a deep breath, Yoshimon puffed up his chest and raised his head high. A tower of crates suddenly moved quickly towards him, surprised Yoshimon jumped out of the way. A tall Tauren moved into view, "Watch where you're walking whelp… we're working here." The Tauren grunted, Yoshimon could have sworn he saw steam come out of the bull's nose as he pushed his way past the two shamans.

"Hahaha… way to start off with a good first impression, Yoshi, we'll have to give them a show when we get the elements to speed our journey, or at least prove our worth as Horde whelps," The two smirked and laughed together, however, Yoshimon lost his brief moment of pride, no longer thinking he was ready. Looking over to the army finishing up their tasks, the two made their way onto the head ship, presenting Thrall's orders to the ship's captain, proving they were in the right place.

About an hour past before the fleet was on its way out to the open sea. The two young shamans were communing with the elements, already getting the water element agreeing to use all their strength to keep the waters flat, if the shamans could convince the air elements to help them.

"Powerful spirits of the air heed my call." Etarr chanted for a few moments before the air around him started to speed up, creating a small dust devil before them, a funnel for the elements to speak through.

"Why do you call us from our duties, we demand answers!" bellowed the dust devil picking up speed, displaying its anger at being disturbed.

"Our world is once again in danger by the demons of the Burning Legion; I pled with you, great spirit, help us get to the other side of the world so that we can defend it before they spread like a plague upon this planet."

"Very well, we will help you, but do not be surprised if your mighty force falls victim to water's wrath as we show you the true meaning of our power!" Etarr attempted to suppress his grin, knowing it was a wise move communing with the water element before the stubborn Air element. Suddenly the winds picked up tenfold threatening to shred their sails to pieces from the sudden change. The Horde fleet picked up speed beyond anything they have ever seen or felt before upon open calm waters.

Hours turned to days as Etarr looked out hoping to see land long before the calculated two month mark. The small dust devil formed once again before the young shaman. "Faster and faster we cast you, yet the waters refuse to make it interesting for us, not a single ship has been lost…" red eye like orbs formed in the center of the dust devil glaring back at Etarr.

"Our cause is just, we only seek to apprise for all the wrongs we have committed as a people upon this world. The demons failed in controlling us and we will show them the true might of the Orcish horde!" he replied slightly losing his temper with the element.

"We sensed in you, your desire to prove your worth… and prove it you must." The ship started to make odd sounds as if it were being torn apart at its very core. The wind started to pick up more speed; more chaotic power blew past Etarr's face. Warriors began to lose their footing, quickly trying to grab onto something. The closest Orc to Etarr screamed as he was lifted up into the air and tossed overboard.

"Stop this at once! We will prove ourselves in battle against the unstoppable armies of the Burning Legion. All I asked was for you to help us get to them faster… you may well be sending us to our deaths without any of this nonsense. Throwing us off our ships does nothing but prove you are powerful spirits. Allow us to protect this world!" Suddenly there was a crash; everyone was thrown forward as the ship came to a halt as if the very elements created a wall before them.

"Your journey is over Orc, go forth and prove your worth to this world. We gave you the element to surprise, for if what you say is true, you are here before the demons, for we sense none." With that the dust devil vanished into the air it spawned from.

Etarr looked out for the first time since the elements went into chaos and saw the air element spoke truth, they were at the Swamp of Sorrows, a place Etarr remembered as if it was yesterday. Rising to his feet, Etarr set off to start the next step in their journey to the Dark Portal.

"All hands to the deck. The shaman whelps have gone and run us a shore. Lower the anchor and tie ropes around those trees, she be taken on water sure and true. Save what ya can from the elements, give nothing back!" All manner of Horde races were running about, many of the Tauren jumped to shore with ropes attached to the boat and started pulling. As if they were trying to single handedly save the ship, Etarr quickly realized they were only trying to provide time for those tying the ship to trees nearby.

Yoshimon had grabbed supplies and run a shore while Etarr tried to stay calm as he prepared to beg the water elements to lower their tides for a moment. SLAP! Etarr stumbled to his knees, "Are you mad, striking me from behind, coward?!" he bellowed.

"Silence whelp, there be no time for showing off, you got us into this mess now move your ass and help save what we can!" The ship captain shoved a crate of supplies into Etarr's chest before moving off to order someone else as he saw fit.

Warlord Dar'toon awakes from his slumber by one of his grunts, "What is it?" he asked, annoyed by the disturbance.

"Our Warchief's fleet has just landed on our shores, sir!" Dar'toon jumped out of bed rushing over to his armor, "Why wasn't I informed they were coming?" He was glaring with primal hate at the green Orc before him sweating from the heat.

"We didn't know, I swear, warlord, their lead ship has run ashore, we're not even sure if they meant to land here."

"Ready a group of grunts we'll be heading out there in five minutes," Warlord Dar'toon commanded. The grunt ran off to carry out his orders. Finishing with his armor, the warlord grabs his weapon and straps it to his back, walking out of his room to meet the grunts already waiting for him. That's what he liked about grunts, always ready at a moment's notice. Dar'toon signaled for the lead scout to take point and they were off, heading to the coast.

A few minutes later the group was wading through the swamp when their lead scout returned, "Sir, they are unloading the ships, one ship is sinking, looks as though it crashed into the rocks."

Dar'toon nods, "very well go gather the kudos from Stonard. Meet us at the coast." The scout runs off back towards their home in Stonard, the Orc encampment within the Swamp of Sorrows. After a few more minutes wading through the unlevel water levels of the swamp, the warlord could hear the familiar sounds of his people shouting amongst themselves. Holding his head high, Dar'toon quickens his pace, eager to be reunited with the army of the Horde.

Off in the distance Dar'toon slowly could see the outline of the fleet on the horizon and not a moment later he was greeted by bows pointed his way. "Ah, warlord, tis good ta see ya mon, we meant no harm," lowering their weapons.

"Quite alright noble Troll, it's good to see you all again," he replied taking in the sight of the mighty Horde before him. "I have sent for kudos to carry your supplies, but curiosity tugs at my tongue, what brings you here?"

A young Orc in shaman mail armor walked up to them, quickly followed by a younger troll than the one that first greeted Dar'toon. "My spirit walk showed the demons prepare for another invasion on our world, we've come to make sure it doesn't happen. We set to move out for the Dark Portal at first light," Etarr replied, followed by introductions between themselves.

They set camp while loading wagons for the kudos to pull, there was no sense heading for Stonard first, as the small encampment couldn't possibly hold the whole army even for just a night.

The air around the two Orcs on night watch duty was thick and humid from the swamp's climate. Even though the sun had been set for hours, it was still hot enough to bring sweat to their skin. One Orc grunted while looking out into the pitch black swamp, relying more on his other senses, as his eyes played tricks on him; which would prove most useful as they could hear anything moving above the water.

However, what stalked them wasn't moving above the water. Impossible to see and even if it wasn't, it would only look like another log in the water. For only its two lumps of its nose and eyes were above the surface as the creature floated closer with every breath it took, willing to take all night if it had to for a meal of Orc.

The Orc that had grunted only moments before began to fidget with his knee brace. The older Orc looked over, an annoyed expression on his face, "Knock it off will you! Our watch is almost over…" he spoke leaning over glaring at the Orc that couldn't sit still.

"I can't help it I've just got a bad feeling about this one," was the reply the elder Orc got.

Realizing its target was distracted the creature whipped its tail in the water sending its body forward with extreme force. Causing the water to splash up upon the Orcs as they screamed, being caught off guard. Razor sharp teeth came into view as the water came down around them, rows upon rows of teeth clamped down on the older Orc's leg. Its powerful jaw muscles tightening into the leg, teeth digging into bone before the creature landed on the ground. The other Orc's screams were but whispers compared to the Elder Orcs horror filled cries while gripping the upper jaw of the beast attached to him, pulling with all his might, hopping to unhinge it from his leg.

The exact moment the creature's front feet touched down it pushed backwards pulling its victim back with it into the water. Descending backwards and down into the black abyss the creature called home. Once on the bottom it began to twist it's over grown body, faster and faster pulling the Orc into its death dance, forcing its victim to expel all oxygen from its lungs only to be replaced by swamp water as he drowned and was dragged off to be eaten.

Stumbling from their tents from all the screaming, members of the Horde rushed to the perimeter of their camp ready for a fight. Once they reached the source of the screaming they found one Orc frozen in place staring into the water before him, seeing no sign of the other Orc or even any sign of a struggle. "What happened?" spat out an angry, yet equally worried, grunt wondering why he was woken up in the middle of the night with no one to fight.

"Swamp gator, came out of nowhere," the terrified Orc replied.

Hot humid sunlight blasted Etarr face as his tent was opened from the outside. Etarr reached up to cover his eyes; the change in light was too much for him. Yoshimon entered the tent allowing the flap to fall back into place returning the light as it was, "One of the night watchmen was dragged off by da local wildlife last night mon."

Etarr glanced down to his armor, reaching for it as he replied, "I thought I heard something last night but I didn't hear a battle cry so I figured I was just on edge, eager for the fight." He had begun to put on his armor, looking over to Yoshimon as he started to speak.

"I be worrying about ya mon, so much desire for da fight, ya very well might be da death of me mon." Yoshimon scratched his head and ran his hand through his Mohawk, his face filled with concern for his friend.

Etarr grunted his reply, "Hell, I'm an Orc. I was born to fight and raised a warrior… they want a fight and we'll make them regret it!" Slamming his fist down for effect and to release some pent up anger. Yoshimon nodded and headed out of the tent, "I be waiting outside," head held low as he went back outside. In the small amount of time he had been in there the Horde had gotten ready to march. Proving to Yoshimon that Etarr was not the only one that thought the way he did.

Etarr finished with his armor, feeling bad about snapping at his friend, that wasn't the way of his people anymore. Thrall set out to change all that, and it was why Etarr had taken up the task to become a shaman. He was wrong in lashing out at Yoshimon and wanted forgiveness as he grabbed his weapon and left his tent. For the first time in many years, Etarr was greeted by the sight of his people gathered and ready to march off to war. He made his way over to Yoshimon just as Warlord Dar'toon gave the marching orders and their journey to the Dark Portal had resumed.

Etarr patted Yoshimon on the shoulder as they began to walk. "I'm sorry for snapping at you. I had no right; you've been a good friend to me… I'm sorry." Yoshimon nodded once again not knowing what to say besides, "It's ok, mon."

An hour later the Horde reached the Blasted Lands, once a swamp land just like Sorrows. However, now tainted by demonic corruption and left a barren wasteland like any land once the demons get a hold of it. The ground was reduced to red orange sand; burnt remains of once great swamp trees littered the area as the Horde marched forward.

Warlord Dar'toon marched the Horde towards the portal with pride, his only concern was passing the human's Neathergrade, a walled in keep that has stood its ground against the Horde in the past. Worried that the humans would attack first and ask questions later, but they had no choice, they had to reach the portal. Etarr made his way to the front of the marching Horde to Dar'toon.

"We near the humans, warlord; we should try to go unnoticed if we can. We can't afford any delays," as he spoke worry filled his voice.

"Go unnoticed, ha that's a laugh, look behind you, pup, even if we managed not to make a sound, which is impossible with the entire Horde army marching in line. But even if we didn't make a sound all it would take is one human looking out to see an army passing by," replied Dar'toon.

Yoshimon came up beside them, "I be having an idea, mon, de earth will mask our army."

"Ha and how do you expect the earth to do that? Are you going to move the mountain, ha," Dar'toon couldn't hold back his laughter, remembering the old days when the Horde would have destroyed the keep simply for being in the way.

Etarr chimed in, "you worry about leading this army, leave the elements to those whelps you think are useless."

Grunting the stubborn Orc moved off. Yoshimon and Etarr kneeled before the earth, chanting to get the elements attention.

Dar'toon returned to the front of the march, angered by the shamans. Neathergrade was coming into view as the ground lightly began to shake, small dust particles rose followed by many more. Soon their view of the keep was blocked by a sand storm, allowing the Horde to pass unnoticed by the Alliance. "Ha, those whelps did have a trick up their sleeves after all." Looking back to see the two young shamans kneeling before the storm, a thought rose in his mind with the distraction in place.

"Quick you five with me, let us use this distraction wisely," and with that the warlord and five Orcs in front ran off to scout the portal before the Horde arrived. Leaping over downed tree trunks and sprinting forward as they neared the great crater that held the Orcs entry into this world.

"Watch-Commander!" called out a footman on watch, "something is going on, and you need to see this!"

"What is it soldier?" replied a wise man approaching the wall, looking out to see a sand storm outside their walls. "That's odd, a sand storm without any wind or clouds above… wait, look closer, can you see something moving down there?"

"No sir, I don't see anything in the storm."

"I could have sworn I saw something move… could it be Orcs?" looking over to the footman, "only an army would stir up that much dust without the help of a real storm. Scouts! Mount your griffins and have a closer look at this, I want to know what's going on and I want to know five minutes ago!" he called out to the pilots below playing cards. "If the Horde is attacking we need to know about it!"

At first the pilots thought the Commander was just doing a random drill. Jokingly getting up from their seats, and pushing each other while trying to look at the others cards. That is until he added that last part about the Horde attacking, the Watch-Commander never joked when it came to the Horde. The pilots doubled their speed to an all out sprint, one tripped over his chair while the others grabbed their gear.

The lead pilot was the first to take flight, a veteran from the old wars and also one of the few human griffin riders, a craft taken by Dwarfs, like the other pilots still readying their mounts. Spikefury, the lead pilot took off towards the sea, wanting to circle around to get a closer look from the other side. Having extensive knowledge of being in an offensive attacking force, Spikefury knew his best chance of seeing anything an enemy force doesn't want you to see, is from behind. Knowing an attacking force so focused on their front it often forgets to watch their backs.

The Dwarven pilots, on the other hand, didn't think their recon through before taking to the air towards the sand. With Spikefury nowhere to be seen the short stubborn Dwarves wanted the glory for themselves, flying in formation right over the storm… into the Horde's line of sight.

Spike however was out of sight for that very reason, having had flown into the clouds while he circled around. Flying blind through the clouds, he had to guess at how far he had gone before coming out into clear air. Gripping the reins tightly Spike pulled ever slightly with his left hand as he leaned with his whole body. His griffin, being well trained, spread out its wings, its angel changed slightly without thinking, the commands being second nature.

Silently, the griffin lowered out of its cloud cover, Spike was greeted by the sight of an army marching past his station; the keep. A mix of races he instantly recognized as the new Horde, their heading was the direction of the Dark Portal, the very portal his current home was built to keep an eye on. Two figures stood apart from the rest, facing the human's encampment. "They must be the ones creating the storm," he whispered to himself, seeing now that the dust wasn't coming from the marching army.

Movement above caught his eye, "Fools!" seeing his comrades flying right for the army. "They'll see you and assume you're attacking," the moment he said it the two figures waved their arms and the storm reacted. Two hands made out of sand rose out of the storm, the Dwarven pilots took evasive measures, scattering out of formation to avoid getting hit. The sand-hands swatted back and forth before being joined by two more of equal size.

Spike watched closely to how the Horde handled the assumed attack on their journey, but none besides the two controlling the storm reacted at all. Their objective obviously not an attack, the storm was only meant to hide their passing. Looking back to his comrades, Spike realized the giant sand-hands weren't trying to knock the riders out of the sky, but rather just drive them off. Pulling hard on his reins, causing Spike's griffin to rise into the clouds once again, and having seen enough, Spike was ready to give his report to the Watch-Commander. A few minutes later he descended landing on the stone wall. Wasting no time Spike jumped off his mount to speak his report.

"It is the Horde, but it's not an attack, the storm was just a hope to pass by unnoticed. A bold attempt but they made no move to attack those fools that flew right for them," looking towards the dwarves that were retreating from the sand-hands

"What about those hands that came out of the storm, if they made no motion to attack, then explain that!" spoke the Watch-Commander.

"Self defense, Sir!" came the soldier's reply, "they were created to prevent an attack from us, if you watched closely the Sand made hands, moved slowly and never came too close to our flyers." Taking a deep breath before continuing, "they are clearly headed for the Dark Portal, and in a hurry, for their only reaction to our flyers, besides the two controlling the storm of course, was a slight quicken of pace by the marching army."

"Hmm," came the Watch-Commanders reply, turning back to the wall, "Call off the defensive attack, but keep the men on alert just in case." Placing his hands on the wall, leaning forward in deep thought, "and Spikefury, deliver your report to Stormwind, they should hear of this."

"Yes Sir!" saluting his commander before Spike climbed back onto his griffin and took off rising back into the clouds. An hour later, flying steady yet fast, Spike patted his griffin's neck, proud to see it still going strong, showing no signs of tiring. Stormwind was slowly coming into view painted upon the horizon as if it was just a canvas created by an artist. The two huge towers over looking the cities' three gated entrance, bridge and outer wall-n-gate, shined brightly in the morning light. Spike flew down landing in front of the cities keep, dismounting and heading inside.

Hours later Spike returned to his griffin followed by a group of Dreanei, a new race that crash landed onto Azoroth, sending out advisors to all the world's cities with warnings of a massive invasion on the world. An Invasion that would take place from the Dark Portal, the very same place Spike came to report the Horde army was marching to. The current King of Stormwind, being only five years old, since his father had gone missing, had the Alliance army spread out and would take a few days to gather them together. In the mean time the small King took the advice from his father's advisors and sent the group of Dreanei with promises that the army would follow shortly after. Spike lead the group to the Blasted Lands, the Dreanei rode upon borrowed griffins from the King's stables.

Once they arrived Spike briefed the Watch-Commander on the King's orders of helping the Horde hold the Dark Portal while the Alliance forces gathered. The Watch-Commander gathered all of his men and set off for the portal. Horses, griffins, footmen and siege weapons rolled out within a couple of minutes, having already been prepped when the alert went out during the Horde created storm.

Watch-Commander Relthorn Netherwane kicked his feet back into his horse, instinctively the horse leaped into a gallop, off ahead of the rest. Eager to reach the Horde before they saw an Alliance army approaching them, for seeing Alliance forces twice without attacking was too high a risk for Relthorn to take. His horse, panting from running faster than it was used to, having been in the stables for so long without proper exercise. Approaching the crater that housed the Dark Portal Relthorn could slightly make out the outlines of figures standing on the crater's outer rim. An arrow whizzed by his head, the wind created by the arrow startled him before he even realized it was an arrow. Hoping it was a warning shot, Relthorn slowed his mount down and raised his arms, wanting to show he wasn't attacking. An Orc came up to the cut out path from within the crater; an Orc Relthorn knew well form the first wars… "Dar'toon," he said as he dismounted his horse and walked over with a glare filled with hate.

"It been long time, human," spoke Warlord Dar'toon in broken common, the language of the Alliance.

"Not long enough Orc, but alas I am not here to fight you, no matter how much I want to." Relthorn said through grinding teeth, clearly displaying how hard it was to admit he wasn't here to fight. Dar'toon removed his hand from the axe upon his back, proving to Relthorn that he understood. "Under order from our King, I have brought all of my men to aid you in the world's defense while the Alliance army is gathered, and will arrive as soon as they can."

"Very well, you men may take up left flank, my forces enforce the rest. Perhaps we live long enough to see this army little king promises; must be hard without father to lead." Making a quite laugh while glancing behind Relthorn, Dar'toon sees the forces Relthorn had mentioned, "It wise of you to come ahead of men, I would have seen that as violent strike, possibly revenge for the flyers and sounded the Horde to attack."

By night fall all of their combined forces were in place, setup around the Dark Portal ready for anything. A round war table was placed in the center for the ones in charge to plan and discuss amongst themselves. "My forces are a little spread out on the left, I am sorry I was not given enough notice to bring more men. Not many men are assigned to me now, ever since the last war ended between our factions," Relthorn spoke reluctant to provide such information to the Horde.

"I don't think the demons care about that side; we need focus on the main route out of crater. My men will be enforcing both sides of path." Dar'toon pointed back to the carved path, "that will be their objective." He grunted that Orcish grunt Relthorn knew meant the Orc was not going to lend aid to his side, looking back to see his few men tasked with holding the line when they didn't even add up to a third of the Horde's army. He sighed; secretly hoping his young King had the true Alliance army marching here at this very moment, before it was too late.

"What makes you an expert on the demons… oh right, you were one of them," Relthorn added, his hatred for the Orcs rising quickly.

"How dare you!" Dar'toon began to say while reaching for his Axe before being distracted by the once empty space between the portal's stone structures. Now filled with energy as it came to life, purple, blue and green waves of pure energy surged forth preparing to open from the other side.

"BATTLE stations men!" Relthorn screamed, running over to his men on the left flank. The argument with the Orc was cleared from his mind, now that the reality of their common enemy was upon them.

Warlord Dar'toon turned to look at the Horde's army, raising his axe into the air as they all called out in unison, "FOR THE HORDE!"

The purple, blue and green waves of pure energy spun around gaining speed as they got closer to the center of the portal's circle structure. The waves touched, instantly exploding sending an ejection of an unstable energy vortex resembling a surge of water. The vortex reached out to the carved path before reseeding back to the portal's stone structure, leaving behind a 'puddle of water' looking energy field, the portal finished, it is now a gateway to another world.

The portal resembling a puddle of water rippled, a being was coming through. A giant steel plate painted green, three metal spikes lined the middle of the plate. The steel plate was held by two strong chains leading up, as two tusks came forth from the portal, followed by a face so sinister the gathered army couldn't hold back their gasps. A mouth full of sharp teeth opened to a grin, laughing at the terrified army trebling with fear before its very eyes. The hair atop its head cast a flame with Fel energy, stepping forward by its two mammoth sized front legs, revealing its massive upper body, its skin scaled like a lizards with all of its battle wounds oozing toxic demonic blood. The very same blood the orcs had drunk many years ago when the Burning Legion corrupted them.

"Is this all that stands between the mighty Legion and free rein of this world?" the pit lord said, stepping further forward dragging its tail behind it. "Pathetic!" raising its arms into the air, the Pit Lord let out a horrific roar, "LET IT BEGIN!" A swarm of demons flow forth from the portal like a plague of locusts. "Mua-hahaha" the Pit Lord lets out an evil laugh as the battle for Azoroth begins.

14


End file.
